“It was okay.”
She opened the kitchen cupboards and filled the shelves with the groceries she’d bought. After a quick glance at Matthew, she left a rotisserie chicken in the refrigerator and took a carton of milk off the shelf.
“Ashley?”
The carton slipped out of her hand and landed heavily on the counter. She waited for the milk to explode across the kitchen, but nothing happened.Thank goodness it wasn’t open.
She glanced at Matthew. He didn’t know how nervous she was, how much she wished she hadn’t had to ask for his help. Over the last three years, she’d often wondered what would have happened if she’d stayed in Bozeman. She’d loved him, but living in a community with more cows than people had never been part of her plans.
“Tell me about your complicated story,” Matthew said quietly.
Ashley pulled her mind away from the past. “Jasmine Alfredo is a very wealthy woman from New York City. Before her husband died, she started a number of charities to help children and their families. I wrote an article about one of the events her Reaching High Foundation organized. While I was there, I asked some people how her charities are funded and who makes the decision to support different projects. Most people were happy to answer my questions.”
She took two mugs out of a cupboard and filled them with hot coffee. “There didn’t seem to be a consistent answer to my questions.”
“So you decided to do some investigating of your own?”
Ashley handed him a cup of coffee and nodded. “Even though her charities receive massive amounts of money, they aren’t bound by the same rules as a business. I found the publicly available financial records of some of Jasmine’s charities. It wasn’t until I asked about the projects The Reaching High Foundation received funding for, that everything became unstuck.”
“What happened?”
“I was given a copy of their annual report. It was the same type of glossy review that a lot of charities produce. I thought I’d look for some of the people who had benefited from the projects they’d funded. I couldn’t find a lot of information about two of the biggest programs they’d delivered.”
“Did you ask the chairperson of The Reaching High board?”
“That’s Jasmine. I tried calling her, but she wasn’t available. No one would talk to me, so I went undercover at a dinner party she organized.”
“You what?”
“I wanted to see who else was involved in her charities.”
“I can’t believe you were so stupid. What if someone recognized you?”
“I wore a wig and changed my makeup.”
Matthew’s jaw tightened. “You’re tall. You couldn’t go unnoticed if you tried.”
Ashley felt the heat of a guilty blush streak across her face. “Someone must have recognized me. The following week I thought I was being followed.”
“You’re lucky you haven’t been arrested.”
“They wouldn’t do that. I know enough about what’s happened to make someone very worried. Only a small percentage of the funding the Foundation received for the youth center and literacy programs went on those projects. The rest of the money has disappeared.”
“Who took it?”
“I’m not sure. After someone broke into my apartment, I knew I couldn’t stay in New York City. Bonnie has let me stay here, but I don’t feel safe.”
“If you want my advice you’ll go home and tell the police everything.”
She shook her head. “I’ve waited three years for my big break. If I find the person who took the money, the story will make the front page of a lot of newspapers. I’m not handing over all the information without publishing the story first.”
“You’re not listening. This is dangerous, Ashley. You asked me what you should do, and I’ve told you.” He picked up his hat and took his mug across to the dishwasher.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I thought you might have changed, but you’re still the same.”
“You’re not going to help me?”
